Simply Irresistible

by P. G. Van

  “Who are you and why were you at a local bar?” she whispered scrolling through the links.

  The first page of search results talked about him being the prodigy who would perfect surgical procedures, and on the next page were completely different topics. It was as if there were two different people with the same name.

  She would have thought they were two different people if she didn’t have his book from five years ago. On the next page, it talked about restaurant investments around the San Francisco Bay Area.

  “What in the world?” she mumbled scrolling through the search results.

  Mantra was scrolling through his images online where, in some, he was posing, and others were captured at red-carpet events.

  “Is that the same guy from the bar,” Samar asked from behind making Mantra almost fall off her chair.

  “Samar… stop creeping up on me like that… it’s scary.” Mantra let out a sigh of relief.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t sleep, and I heard you turn on your computer.” Her friend sat on the bed looking tired and apologetic.

  “It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep either.”

  Samar picked up the book on her bed and looked at the picture of the author. “Oh my gosh, this guy writes medical books?”

  “Yes, he is all over the internet.” Mantra scrolled through the endless images.

  “Hold it,” Samar called out and moved closer to the computer.

  “What?” Mantra turned to look at her friend who now seemed to be wide awake.

  Samar put her finger on the picture of a young woman in a flowing dress standing next to the sexy stranger from the bar. “This was the woman he was with at the bar.”

  “Yes, that woman caught me checking him out.” Mantra rolled her eyes.

  “Click on that picture.”

  “Samar, I think that’s enough spying for one night.”

  “No… do it… I know who that woman is…” Samar moved closer to the screen, and when the page loaded, she chuckled victoriously. “I knew she looked familiar. That is Miss USA from a few years ago. Miss California went on to become Miss USA.”

  “Oh…” Something twitched inside Mantra like she couldn’t handle the fact she was not any random woman. She was Miss USA, and somehow looking at that picture, made her feel a deep ache like she was feeling possessive about him.

  She cursed under her breath for feeling the way she did, like she owned him—a complete stranger—a sexy stranger.

  “This guy is all over the place.” Samar kept clicking through picture after picture.

  “Just close everything, Samar. This is a complete waste of time.”

  “Why were you looking him up then?” Samar teased.

  “I wanted to check if the author of this book was the guy from the bar.”

  “And?”

  “Nothing!”

  “Really?” Samar chuckled.

  “Yes, he is the one who said psychology is fluff, and there is nothing modern medicine cannot treat. Fluff is the word he used to describe psychology.”

  “How do you know all that?” Samar was surprised.

  “That’s what he says in his book I bought years ago.” Mantra shook her head.

  “You read his book again, tonight?”

  “No.”

  Samar laughed. “Someone’s pissed.”

  “Yes, I’m pissed because my dad quoted this moron when I told him I was not going to medical school.” Mantra was suddenly upset.

  “Why couldn’t you tell them the real reason you switched.” Samar put her arms around her.

  “They won’t get it, Samar.”

  “I know why you switched, and I’m glad you are doing what you think will help other people.” Samar comforted her.

  “Thanks, Samar.”

  “I can get more information from Tony if you are into that sexy playboy from the bar.”

  “Sure, get me his number.” Mantra elbowed her best friend.

  “Done… scratch that. I’ll set up a date for you.” Samar laughed.

  “You are a true friend, Samar.” Mantra laughed hitting her friend with a pillow before settling into bed.

  “Say that the next time I throw up in your car.”

  “I’ll say it and make you clean it up.” Mantra winked as her friend left the room laughing.

  Mantra lay in the darkness, the words from the book and her father’s words ringing in her ears. She didn’t care what people thought about her life choices, she knew what she wanted to do, and even if her thesis were the most challenging thing to do, she would find a way to finish it.

  Chapter 3

  It was the same car—it had to be the same one. The royal blue Lamborghini that cost as much as a house was hard to miss, and the face of the owner flashed in front of her eyes was intimidating and exciting her at the same time. Mantra watched in horror as the car rolled into the parking lot of the gas station where she was filling up her car.

  The scratch she had left on the luxurious car almost a week ago mocked her, making her feel guilty. She was in a hurry to get away that night, and she now hoped the earth would open up and suck her in before he spotted her.

  Her almond eyes followed the tall, athletic figure as he walked toward the cashier window. She sunk deeper into her seat taking in his chiseled profile. His hair looked stylishly unruly making her body awaken just like it had the night she laid eyes on him.

  Bile rose in her throat when he turned to look in her general direction for a brief moment as he ran his fingers through his dark hair. She heard the gas pump shut off at the same time startling her. She pulled her hoodie over her head quickly replacing the gas hose and ran back to the comfort of her car. Damn the cars with the gas tank opening on the passenger’s side.

  She drove away without another glance his way and was on the highway in minutes. Relieved that he didn’t spot her for more than one reason, she turned up the music enjoying the scenic highway.

  The rumble was hard to miss. She felt it cut through the loud music playing on the audio system in her car. She glanced in her rearview mirror, and the sinking feeling returned when she spotted the royal blue shark-looking car coming toward her at what seemed like the speed of light. She hastily moved to the right lane to let the beast built for speed pass by her.

  The car came so close to her so fast that she was sure she was going to be rear-ended and gripped the steering wheel with her sweaty palms. She would have closed her eyes and let the situation pass if she had a choice.

  She held her breath waiting for the car to pass, but it did not. Instead, it pulled up right behind her going at the same pace as her.

  “Oh, shit!” The words escaped her mouth when she saw the line of red lights ahead of her with the traffic starting to slow down.

  The car moved to the left-most lane to pass her, and she watched in horror as it cut in front of her leaving no room to stop. She slammed on her brakes hoping her little car would stop and watched, her mouth as dry as sandpaper, as the nose of her car rammed into the mystic-looking rear of the hot alien beast vehicle.

  “Oh, no!” Exactly what she was hoping to avoid. She stopped, frozen in her spot as the cars behind her moved to the side lanes. Her heart started to thud when he signaled her to pull over to the shoulder. She nodded and moved to the shoulder as wild thoughts of running from the scene crossed her mind. She probably would have if it weren’t for the darn traffic jam.

  Cars moved at a snail’s pace, but she refused to get out of her car. She watched him open the driver’s side door up into the air and slide out.

  She was virtually kicking herself as he lazily strode toward her. He looked extremely casual in jeans that hugged his waist running endlessly down his long legs, and his white dress shirt molded to his broad shoulders.

  Her eyes were riveted on his face, specifically on his full lips that were pressed together.

  “Are you okay?” He leaned over her car looking down at her pale face. Her thick, dark hair delicately framed her face,
and her dark eyes were hard to forget.

  She nodded not trusting her voice.

  “I need to see your driver’s license, and I’m gonna need your insurance information to fix my ride.”

  Fix? There was barely a scratch on the bumper. They barely touched at that low speed. “I… I don’t see anything damaged.”

  “Well, the car is built with carbon fiber, but something on the inside could be damaged, and I did get a nasty scratch.” His eyes moved lazily over her face just like they did about a week ago at the bar. She decided to ignore his looks and whatever he was trying to do with his piercing eyes and got out of her car.

  “I need to take pictures of the damage before I can give you my information.” She walked past him taking in a full whiff of his sexy cologne that made her sidestep slightly.

  “I don’t see any damage.” She turned to look at him and saw him smirking.

  “You see that souvenir on the side? That’s definitely paint off your car and see, your car has the same scratch, too.” He pointed to the scratch she had left on his car a week ago. Her heart sank wondering if he knew how he got the scratch that night.

  She decided not to fight it, not in the middle of the highway. The last thing she needed was an insurance claim, and she panicked when a thought passed through her mind about her coverage. The insurance company could drop her coverage, and without the coverage, she couldn’t drive. That would throw a deep dent into her life, upsetting everything.

  “That scratch isn’t from today,” she blurted out. “You shifted lanes from the left, and the scratch is on the right. It could have been any other black car.”

  “Why is there a scratch on your car at that spot then?” He raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, I have a lot of bushes next to my parking spot,” she declared coolly hoping he would buy it.

  “Fine. I still need your information because you hit me. Either you give me the details, or I can have a cop get the information from you.”

  “What do you need?” she snapped.

  “Everything.” A crooked smile crept up his face.

  She gave him her driver’s license and her insurance information.

  “Your insurance card say’s it has expired,” he drawled.

  “It’s renewed, I just don’t have the latest copy. Use the policy number.” She tried not to sound as annoyed and turned around.

  “Mantra Arundhati Varma.” Her full name rolled off his lips, and she froze in her tracks. The words sounded so sensual when he said them. She hated her middle name as it was old-fashioned, and she avoided using it, but she didn’t mind when it was said with his deep voice.

  “Yeah?” she stuttered.

  “I’m Yash. It’s nice to meet you.”

  He held his hand out forcing her to step toward him to shake his hand. His large palm cocooned her delicate palm for a moment longer than required. She knew who he was, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “I’m Mantra.” She pasted a polite smile on her face, and that’s all the pleasantries he got.

  “Can I have your phone number?” He was cautious. “I need it for my insurance claim.”

  She growled on the inside, and a glare surfaced.

  “I don’t see proof of valid insurance, and I’ll have my insurance company call you if they need additional details.” His tone was casual.

  “Fine!” She gave him her phone number and hoped to get away as soon as possible before she had a repeat of the episode at the bar last weekend.

  She was jolted back to reality when her phone started ringing.

  “I needed to make sure you didn’t give me the wrong number even by accident.” His voice was deep and husky.

  “Call my insurance company,” she almost snapped and turned away from him. She was better off dealing with her insurance company than him.

  “Arundhati?” he called out like he knew she would react to it.

  “The name is Mantra,” she snapped and was sure she caught a glint of amusement in his eyes.

  “I’m sorry, my mistake.” The edge of his mouth twisted up wickedly.

  She realized the guy was messing with her, and she couldn’t help that he got under her skin. How did he do that?

  “I prefer Mantra.” She tried to stay calm.

  He stepped closer and stopped inches away. “Mantra is a beautiful name.”

  “Thanks,” she snapped. She blamed her grandma for picking her middle name, but the way it played on his lips was almost sinful.

  “Can I get a ride?” He surprised her.

  “Huh?”

  “I don’t know how much beating my car took, and I can’t risk driving it.” He shrugged.

  “Umm…”

  “It’s going to take my towing company an hour to show up, and I need to be somewhere in thirty minutes.” He looked at his watch making her feel guilty.

  “What about the car?”

  “It really can’t go anywhere without me. So… do I get a ride?”

  “Where do you need to go? I can’t go if it is out of my way,” she stated calmly.

  “I need to go to a restaurant not far from here.” He clicked the sleek key fob and followed her to her car.

  “Fine.” She tried to be nice only because she felt guilty about scratching his beast of a car the night at the bar and didn’t confess.

  She got into her car and stared at the fancy car sitting on the shoulder. “Are you sure you want to leave your car here?”

  He looked up from his phone for a brief moment, and she swore she saw a wicked twinkle in his eyes. “I’m texting my guy to have it picked up soon.” He finished typing on the phone and looked sideways at her. “You can drive while I text.”

  She gave him a polite smile refusing to show any reaction. Her body was reacting to his closeness, and with every breath of the musky cologne she inhaled, she felt her deepest layers emanating molten heat. She had to keep herself in check and not show him how he affected her.

  “Are we pretending like we don’t know each other?” His words were playful.

  “We don’t know each other.” She stayed calm.

  “You checked me out at the bar, you followed me to the restroom, you scratched my neck and then my car, and today you ran into me. We just didn’t know each other’s name.” He smirked taking in her delicate features as she looked at the road ahead.

  “I barely touched your car,” she uttered ignoring his other comments.

  “You touched,” he crooned.

  “Where are you headed?” He was bad news. He was a walking sex god, and she didn’t need anything like him in her life.

  “The Red Room,” he declared his voice steady, but the air between them hummed with sexual tension.

  Chapter 4

  The Red Room was the one place that screamed sex from the name to the food that was served down to the signs in the parking lot. Her internet research told her it was the most exclusive restaurant with a limited number of guests per night, a setting that turned on any person with just a bite of the food served. The place intimidated her even though she had never been there. She knew from reading about it that she could never dare step inside, not only because she couldn’t think of anyone to go there with, but because she wanted to pay her rent and buy food for the rest of the year.

  “The one on California Avenue?” She tried not to show how shaken she was on the inside. Her nerves were raw making her feel exposed and vulnerable in front of him. It didn’t help that the famous Christian Grey of Fifty Shades had his own Red Room, a sexual torture chamber.

  “There is only one Red Room in the country,” he taunted.

  She didn’t respond and gripped the steering wheel firmly.

  “Are they open already?” The question rolled off her lips hoping to sound nonchalant.

  “I need to be there for a meeting before they open tonight.” His voice was smooth.

  “What do you do for them?” She couldn’t figure out why she couldn’t stop talking. She was asking question
s which she knew the answers to already.

  “Not much, I just own the place.”

  She started humming Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star as she pulled into the parking lot to calm her nerves.

  “You can pull into that reserved spot.” He directed her toward the far left of the parking lot.

  “I don’t need to park. I can pull up front.”

  “Are you scared you will give in to the temptation?” He smiled making her shudder at his words. She wondered if he meant her temptation for him or the specialty desserts served at The Red Room. It didn’t matter, and she decided not to leave the safety of her car.

  “No, I’m fine. I have to go.” Her voice was hesitant because her body throbbed with a longing to reach out and touch him.

  “Can I get you the dessert of the day to try?” His voice was insistent.

  “Some other time,” she stuttered, desperate to run away.

  “Mantra… you are the first person to take a rain check for one of the awesome desserts served at The Red Room.” He laughed putting her slightly at ease.

  “Okay, small bite. I need to watch what I eat.” She smiled pulling into the reserved parking spot.

  “You are beautiful the way you are.” He lazily scanned her face like he did the night at the bar. She went stiff as if cold water had been splashed on her face. Her exterior froze, but her insides turned to molten lava when she realized he complimented her. She was used to admiring looks, but never flat-open admiration. She swallowed hard and didn’t attempt to prolong the conversation.

  She pulled her shirt lower over her so-called curves as she stepped out of the car. She made it a point to walk behind him, so she didn’t feel like he was caressing her butt with his eyes. A sliver of dirty pleasure ran through her at the thought of his large palm on her soft body, specifically her butt.

  He led her toward a walkway at the side of the building, and she took the opportunity to admire the way his jeans clung to his back, again. It was his body that made her check him out in the first place at the bar that night.

  The small pathway led to a fence gate, and her mind went on high alert and wondered if she should follow him. He was a hot piece of ass, but he could be a psycho killer.